Magic porridge pot, only couscous. Awful.

 It's all been a bit tedious so far.  I was unwise to enter into what they call a challenge - so discouraging.  The idea was to start with a breakfast high in carbohydrate and see what that does to your blood glucose, the next morning to have a high fat breakfast, then to have both the next day, then to eat carbohydrate and walk briskly for half an hour, then on the final day to have the fat first, wait for half an hour and then have the carbs.  

I may never eat blinking couscous again.  I've gone right off avocado too.  

Seriously, this is a stupid way to introduce people into a programme that may lead to a new way of eating. If they ask for feedback (haha) then I'll tell them.  They then wanted you to do more sodding challenges - thing is, you need an empty stomach before you start so you're supposed to do it in the morning, but some of the meals are absolutely not breakfast food.  Spag bol?  Really?

I decided, belatedly, that it was counter-productive - this was evaluated on the evidence, it wasn't whimsical - and to eat what I wanted to eat and use the last few days of my glucose tracker for that.  I'm still waiting for my personal analysis, but that will arrive soon.

I'm feeling pretty disenchanted with the whole thing at present, frankly.  I'm very much against faddy eating and this seems to feed (haha) into that.  I'm on a couple of facebook groups and some people get really competitive about it, even if they''re only in competition with themselves.  I think there's good stuff in here, but fad diets aren't sustainable and I have yet to be convinced that - totally against the intentions of the people who devised the programme - it doesn't encourage unhealthily obsessive diet patterns.  

It could just be that I'm argumentative and awkward.  But if you go for this programme and are (I suggest not) determined to do the five day programme, please - on my knees, please - don't do the sodding couscous.  It will break you.

Day 1

 People have said the muffins are the worst part and they are right.  You have three for breakfast and two for lunch and you have to eat them within 15 minutes.  I was slightly over for breakfast and that was with the help of a pint of water and a mug of tea.  They're sweet and fine-textured and just not pleasant.  The first bite or two isn't bad, but the unpleasantness builds up.  It's too much food and yet unsatisfying.  

Having said that, it's over and I don't have to do it again.  I've done the blood sample and I'm regularly testing my blood glucose level - there's an implant I've attached to my arm.  There's also a poo test, which they call poop.  I'd be quite happy with a more biologically accurate word, but no matter. Thing is, my regular habit has vanished now that I'm supposed to collect a sample.  I'm sure I'll get it tomorrow.

I'm supposed to scan the implant at least every 8 hours, but actually more often in practice as that is how you know how you react to food and drink.  Over the next fortnight, I should play with it - eat different foods in different combinations, to see how my blood glucose reacts.  

This evening, I had a fairly uninteresting meal of leftover sprats plus a little hot-smoked salmon, about 110g in total, plus 55g of leftover brown rice and 75g cooked spinach.  And two small (110ml each) glasses of wine.  That isn't a lot, now I see it written down, so I may add some fruit.  I don't do intermittent fasting as such, more IF lite, but I do leave at least 12 hours overnight between meals (this includes drinks, though herb or actual tea and coffee are okay as long as they don't have milk, sugar or artificial sweeteners).

My purpose is to find out how my body reacts to categories of food and combinations of foods and I hope to lose weight, but also to be as healthy as I can be.  I feel emotionally fragile: however well things are going on any day, the least thing raises my anxiety levels a lot.  I don't cry very often, but I'm on the verge of tears frequently.  I'm not clinically depressed and I cope reasonably well and I ask for help and I try to support friends who need it.  I actively look for moments (or more) of pleasure and joy.  I am grieving and I have worries, that's all there is to it.  It's normal and I'm just saying it, because I've hidden my feelings for many years and that doesn't help any more.  

Tomorrow and tomorrow...

 I didn't start the regime today after all, because younger son and his children came over.  I wasn't going to serve them a roast dinner and eat dry and dismal muffins for my own lunch.  So I've postponed to Tuesday.  

Baksun, as Christopher Robin would put it.

It's all about gut diversity and stuff like that

 Starting again didn't happen after all.  I was doing reasonably well in 2019, even though I wasn't writing here about it, but then lockdown happened and cycling didn't.  The local independent shops were doing online orders, so you did your food order and then picked it up when it was ready.  Since it was packed in boxes at the greengrocer and their own bags at the deli and whole food shop, there wasn't really an opportunity to put it in bike panniers.  So I drove in.  And then the next year, when things might have got back to normal, Tim wasn't very well and then he died.  Life is sad and dismal, but that's for another blog if I wanted to write about it.

What I have done is sign up for the Zoe personalised nutrition plan.  This is the brainchild of T1m Sp ec tor, whose Zoe app was used by millions of us in the UK to report on our health during Covid lockdown and beyond.  That is still going, but he's now very interested in the effect of what each of us eats and how it affects us individually.  Even identical twins might have completely different gut biomes and that affects our weight and our health.  

There's a waiting list for the programme, but I finally came to the top of it.  It's expensive, but I've stumped up and hope that it'll be useful.  I've set my starting date as Sunday, so will report back as it progresses.  I have to wear a monitor, eat (for the first day) disgusting sounding muffins, test my blood and gather poo samples.  Seriously, it had jolly well better be worth it.

Z starts again

I blame Tim.  One has to blame someone, after all.  Like Eve, I was tempted and I fell.

At the time Russell died, I was the thinnest I'd been for many years, and was actually a few pounds less than I wanted to be.  Not much, but I let myself edge up to about eight and a half stone and this was just about right.  I stayed there with no trouble - but then a pound or so a month started to creep on.  You know how it is, it's too easy.  I've stabilised but I am a lot fatter than I want to be.

I'm a fair bit older than I was when I last dieted and I'm not especially motivated to do it again, but I must.  I honestly don't eat anything I shouldn't and I won't do exclusion diets, even if they work.  I need to gradually reduce the amount I eat and get myself fitter, though I hate exercise for its own sake too.  I'm not the best candidate for weight loss.  But the first thing to do is to get more exercise - as my former doctor put it, exercise doesn't make you lose weight but it raises your metabolism so that dieting is more effective.

I've had my bike serviced and new tyres and handlebar grips, and am back on it again.  I cycle to Yagnub, no further yet, though my aim is to go by bike if it's no more than five miles and it's feasible.  Today, I managed a hill that I had to walk up two days ago, so I'm improving slightly.  I was panting, I admit,  but I did it.

I'm really pissed off that I let myself gain the flab, but there's no point in fussing.  I'm old and knackered and, as I get more so, it'll be harder again.  So now is the time.

Success, and some learning.

So I went zero carb back in... September, was it? It went very well. To some this is absolute mentalism, but I needed to make big changes and I wanted to give it a go. So far, so good.

Let me explain why I thought the changes were needed. All of my adult life I have been a heavy drinker. Never been an issue, never craved it as such when I don't have it, but I'm either drinking or I'm not. It's never one or two, it's drinking until I am drunk or what's the point. It's not for pleasure, generally, it's to reach a point.

September 2017, I quit drinking alcohol on my doctor's advice. Nothing too bad, but I had gout, and it appeared to be a major factor for most sufferers. Doctor said quit drinking, so I did. From there, I came to learn just how addicted I was. Not to the booze, but to the sugar within. Jesus fucking Christ, did I learn. There were times when I would be eating upwards of six chocolate bars a day, there was at least one day with nine... My body was peak and trough, over and over; I was falling asleep at my desk in those sugar lulls, and getting a shit-ton of work done in the highs.

Diabetes has always been a massive fear of mine, partly because I am so needlephobic and partly because, well, if you live the way I have then a Type 2 diagnosis is only one person's fault. I couldn't live with knowing that, understanding it, and then doing it anyway.

This combines with looking into Ironman, and learning that on the bike I would have to, in theory, put away four carb sachets per hour. That could be upwards of 30 sachets in 112 miles – fuck that shit. Never mind your gut, what about your teeth? There has to be a better way, I thought. So I start talking to a coach I know and he mentions zero carb, we discussed it, and I thought, I'll give it a month.

One month turned to two, to three… People were coming up to me saying 'Shit, how much weight have you lost?' My own sister walked past me twice without recognising me. No shit. In reality, at that point I had only lost maybe a stone and a half (20lbs, US Fat Fans) but so much of it was water that it had a really dramatic effect. I had plenty of energy, was sleeping fine, and was enjoying my food.

Christmas Day came, and Fern's dad came round with a ginger cheesecake. That man can cook.

I ate the cheesecake. Whole thing.

And form there, I really learned about the addiction to sugar. For the next five or six weeks, I learned everything I think I need to know about how my body and brain responds to the stimulus of sweet. In short... As strong as I am mentally, I have to avoid it. It's almost as though the body calibrates in the morning, one taste of sweet and that's it for me. Next thing you know I am eating a tub of ice cream. Whole fucking tub. Using the microwave to help it along.

Now, back on the wagon, I try to make sure I have what I need in advance. I cook some meat the night before, take it to work in a tub, graze on it all day. Forget mealtimes, I eat until I am not hungry, then I stop.

I've rambled, apologies if I lost focus there. It's quite a journey so far. I've lost about 35-40lbs I think, but I'm not sure. I'm just over 16 stone now, 222lbs, and while I am probably carrying more muscle than ever before in my life, I feel pretty good. I recently started training again, just a little - a few three-mile runs this week, seeing how it goes. And so far, so good. Next week I will add in some swims, some gym work.

I might have to get some fashionable accessories made with all this spare skin though. I'm thinking belt, slippers, wallet… Orders will be taken soon, so start thinking. Seriously, I look like I'm melting.

I'm finding it increasingly difficult to comment on Blogger blogs which let Google users comment.  Blogger is owned by Google and I use Gmail, which I'm signed into, but that doesn't seem to be enough.  So I'm writing a post in the hope that this will be sufficient.

I'm still blogging, but not generally here.  Hope you're all well.